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Eccentric Comedy 

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DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 
NEW YORK. 



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Class _il^ ___ 

Book . 

Gopight W . 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



A STEW IN A STUDIO 

OR 

CABBAGES versus ROSES 
%n Eccentric Comefcp in €ljree %tt$ 



BY 

AMELIA SANFORD 



Copyright, 1910, by Dick & Fitzgerald 



NEW YORK 

DICK & FITZGERALD 

18 ANN STREET 



f* <n A* 



^<h^ : 



A STEW IN A STUDIO. 



CHARACTERS. 

ROSE Madder An Art Student. 

Owve Green .An Art Student. 

Anna Mation. 

VERE DE VERE Miujon. .■ An Artist. 

ORVH.I.E K. Rich. 

Si Enna A Farmer. 

Kitty Duffy A Servant. 

Fi^ynn A Policeman. 

Pouce-Sergeant. 
Magistrate. 
Ambulance-Surgeon. 
Eight Guests. 

Note : — Three of the guests may be doubled by the Magistrate, 
Sergeant, and Surgeon. 

Locality — New York. 
Time of Performance— An hour and a quarter. 



SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — The Studio. Two lovers in hiding, both men. 
The love-letter and bunch of roses. The roses are pur- 
loined and the letter falls on the cabbages. Rose reads the 
letter ; indignation — " Am I a cabbage-head ! " A volunteer ■ 



©CI.D 17969 



A Stew in A Studio. 3 

model on canvas. A panic caused by a snoring Bust, and 
a voice from above results in a catastrophe. Invasion by 
Police and arrest of the Bust and Pedestal. 

Act II. — The Court-room. The Policeman's vain attempt 
to formulate a charge against some one— he does not know 
which one,— thinks it is the Bust. The Magistrate's di- 
lemma. , . ..... 

Act III.— The Sheet and Pillow-case masquerade. Mis- 
taken identity. A mix-up. The right men, but the wrong 
girls. Mutual— but mistaken— confidential confessions dis- 
close the mistakes made under cross purposes, and the right 
men get the right girls and all is lovely. 

COSTUMES. 

Rose Madder. Acts I. and II.— Large black studio-apron, 
high neck and long sleeves. Act III.— Sheet-and-pillow-case 
drapery, over fancy-dress as " Rose " ;— This may he of 
white organdie over red, with small red silk cap trimmed 
with green leaves or smilax. Or the whole costume may be 
made of crepe paper. Be careful that it goes well with the 
roses which she has to carry. 

Olive Green. Act I.— Same as Rose. Act II.— Same. 
Act III. — Sheet-and-pillow-case over any fancy dress; but 
an arrangement all in green is best. 

Anna Mation. Act I.— Ordinary street costume. After- 
wards, any picturesque dress, 1830 or Empire style, with 
large bonnet. Then street costume as at first. Act II. — 
Same, street-costume. Act III.— Sheet-and-pillow-case over 
fancy dress; might be the same used when posing in Act I. 

Vere de Vere Million. Acts I. and II.— Ordinary dress ; 
or he may wear loose velvet jacket and cap, with Windsor 
tie. Act III.— Sheet-and-pillow-case drapery, over fancy 
costume, style of "Sir Walter Raleigh." 

Orville E. Rich. Acts I. and II.— Ordinary dress. Act 
III.— Sheet-and-pillow-case drapery, over fancy dress. 

Si Enna. Act I. and II.— Burlesque country costume; 
large hat, old-fashioned collar and very deep cuffs, spattered 
with daubs of paint; chin-whiskers; high boots, etc. Act 
III.— Sheet-and-pillow-case drapery, over fancy dress. " Uncle 
Sam," would be good. 

Kitty Duffy. Maid's costume ;— cap, apron, linen collar 
and cuffs. 

Flynn. Police uniform. 



4 A Stew in A Studio. 

Sergeant. Dark-blue uniform; visor cap, with coat-of- 
arms in gilt. 

Ambulance-Surgeon. White linen suit. 

Guests. Sheet-and-pillow-case drapery, over fancy-dress. 

SCENE PILOTS. 

Act I. — Easel, with half -finished head; or the easel may 
be kept turned away from audience. Mahl-stick, brushes, 
palette, tube of red paint, upon a small folding stool near 
easel; high-backed chair, pedestal with bust (antique if pos- 
sible) table, bench; dummy (small painted wooden doll). 
In corner, l. r v a Curtained recess, stopping just enough be- 
low ceiling to allow room for a man's head. Cover the cur- 
tain with fancy gim-cracks, bric-a-brac cheap or not easily 
broken, — bronzed shield, or shields covered with college 
colors. Also several large boxes to stand upon, and place one 
just where Rich can put his head into it as he falls. 

Act II. — Magistrate's desk, chair; — the desk may be 
merely a large table, or it may be a high desk with a railing 
across the top. 

Act III. — Same as I. — But have a number of busts or 
plaster casts around the wall. Table, table-cloth, dishes, 
punch-bowl, etc. Large plate of salad. Large bunch of 
lettuce. 

INCIDENTAL PROPERTIES. 

Bunch of roses, letter, for Rich. Cabbages for Olive. 
Green cloak for Million. Large prayer-book for Anna. 
Watch for Rose. Two plates of chicken salad for Kitty. 

STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

As seen by a performer on the stage facing the audience, 
r. means right-hand; L., left-hand; a, center of stage, r. r. 
rear right; r. l., rear left; r. f., right front; l. f., left front; 
c. f., center front. There is only one entrance (and exit) at 
right of rear. 



A STEW IN A STUDIO. 



ACT. I. 



SCENE.— A Studio. See Scene Plot. Exit at Right 
Bear. Table, Right Center. High chair, Center. Cur- 
tained recess, Left Rear. Pedestal with bust, Left 
Front. Easel, with bench, Right-Front. 

ENTER Olive Green, carrying cabbages. 

Olive (places them on table, comes center, facing aud- 
ience). Now for my beautiful idea: — A still life — shades 
of green — (As she talks, she steps about, pulls out table, 
arranging cabbages, etc.) No high lights; all subdued, har- 
monious, restful. (Stands off; attitude of rapture) Divine! 
(Looks at them through closed fist) Exquisite! (Goes r. f., 
half-closes eyes, looks at them with head on one side) Rest- 
ful! But I need a background. [EXIT r. r. 

ENTER Orville E. Rich, carrying roses. 

Rich (looking about). Ah, my exquisite Rose is not here; 
however, she soon will be. This note (taking out letter and 
opening it) will explain to her my feelings, and I will lay it 
with the flowers on this er — er — (picks up stool and looks at 
it) — er — article of furniture. (Lays flowers carefully on 
stool. Reads note aloud) 
" To Miss Rose Madder, 

Dothewurst Sketch Club — 
" My Dear Miss Madder : — 

" I have long wished to convey to you my real feelings. 
Reflecting on your appearance and characteristics, it seemed 
well to leave here a little of those fair flowers of which I 
am most reminded when I gaze upon you. 
" Faithfully yours, 

" Orville E. Rich." 
(Speaks). Dear me, how inadequate language can be at 
5 



6 A Stew in A Studio. 

times! I wanted to say that she looks just like a rose, and 
so I brought roses. But it seemed so abrupt, not to say- 
personal. Perhaps this will be all right. (Reads again) — 
" To leave an offering of those fair flowers, of which I am 
most reminded when I gaze upon you." (Speaks thought- 
fully) Seems plain enough — (Listening) Here she comes! 
I can't get out — too embarrassing to meet her now — (Rushes 
wildly about; sees curtains) The very thing! (Gets behind 
curtain, knocking over a box) 

ENTER Olive Green hurriedly. 

Olive. I declare, it seems as if some one were in here. 
(Comes front.) Well, I shall have to go on hunting for my 
green background. I can't find anything; green velvet 
would be the right thing. (Sees roses) Oh, what a study 
in red — with red plush ! (Picks up roses, hurries out; as she 
goes, Rich's note falls on the cabbages) I must get some 
water for them at once. [EXIT r. r. 

Rich (pushing back curtain, wiping face with handker- 
chief). Fury, it's hot in here! Wonder if I can't get some 
air. (Piles up boxes behind curtain, climbs up on them, 
hastily closing curtain and looking over top of it) 

ENTER Rose r. r. 

Rose (looking about). I do wonder what that queer noise 
was! Why, that curtain is crooked. (Rich hastily with- 
draws head, clutching curtains with hands, feet, knees, or 
anything.) How queerly it is fastened inside. Humph! 
(Turning away) I suppose that Miss Muddle has some 
precious clay image or putty figure hidden away. (Goes 
center. Rich kisses hand to her over curtain.) Stay there, 
old putty-head; I don't want you! (Sees cabbages) Why, 
where did those come from? And they're for me — how 
queer! (Opens note — consternation on Rich's face. Rose 
reads aloud) "My Dear Miss Madder: — " (Speaks) Urn 
— um — Well, I don't understand! (Reads) It seemed well 
(slowly) to leave — here — a — little — offering — of those fair 
flowers of which I am most reminded when I gaze upon you. 
Faithfully yours, Orville E. Rjch." (Looks at cabbages 
steadily for some seconds. Speaks) So, I'm a cabbagehead, 
am I ? Well ! ! (Bursts out crying) P d-d-don't care ! I 
think it's too mean! [EXIT r. r. 

Rich. Now, where on earth were those roses! Just my 
blooming bad luck! 

ENTER Rose r. r. 



A Stew in A Studio. jr 

Hose. I'm going to throw the old things out, anyway; 
and I shall never let him know I got them, or his horrid old 
note. (Stamps foot, gathers up cabbages) [EXIT r. r. 

Rich. This has turned out quite otherwise from what I 
had planned. One thing is clear; this is not a propitious 
moment for meeting her. I must keep quiet, and when 
Vere de Vere-Million comes in, I'll have to ask him to keep 
her at a safe distance till I get safely out of this. I'd rather 
ask any one else. What business has a fellow to be rich and 
an artist too? 

ENTER Vere de Vere-Million, green velvet cloak over arm. 

Rich. Hello! 

Million. Hello (holes about), but where are you? 
Funny; no one about, but I could swear some one spoke. 
(Goes over near curtain; picks up dummy doll; absurd busi- 
ness of shaking hands with it) Did you speak, you block- 
head? 

Rich. Stop calling names, will you? 

Million (looking up). What are you doing up there on 
the ceiling? 

Rich. Being miserable. Million, help me out of a scrape, 
that's a good fellow! 

Million (listens a moment, then walks rear hurriedly). I'd 
help you, but I'm afraid of being caught myself. I annoyed 
a certain young lady of my acquaintance, and she won't 
speak to me. But there's a studio dance to-night — sheet and 
pillow-case, you know, with fancy dress underneath — and I 
shall speak to her before I unmask. So long, old man — I'll 
send the janitor — (turns back) Where did I leave my cloak? 
(Voices heard) There now, there she comes, and if she sees 
me hanging around this sacred easel, she'll never get over it. 
(Excitedly) I'll have to hide! (Gets behind pedestal of 
bust) 

ENTER Olive r. r. 

Olive. Why, where are my cabbages? (Sees cloak.) 
Here's the very identical background I've been hunting for 
all day. Now, I'll have to get more cabbages. 

[EXIT r. r., carrying cloak. 

Million. A narrow escape, eh, Rich? 
Rich. Let's make a bolt of it; I'm nearly roasted here. 
Oh, here's some one else! 

ENTER Anna Mation and Rose r. r. 



8 A Stew in A Studio. 

Rose. I think my heart will break. The idea of being 
treated so! (Goes to easel; stands looking at it) Well, 
women must work, heartache or no heartache. Nan, dear — 

Anna. Well? 

Rose. My model is very ill. 

Anna. Your what? 

Rose. The model; poses to me, you know; and she's just 
your height and coloring; and oh, Nan! I wish 

Anna. I'm sort of busy, just now; but if I can do any- 
thing for you at odd times this week 

Rose (joyfully). Oh, Nan, would you? I'd be so grate- 
ful ! It won't take up too much of your time, would it ? 

Anna. Oh, I can manage. What is it you do? 

Rose. You dress in the costume, and then you pose in 
the desired attitude. 

Anna. What attitude? 

Rose. Just sit in a high-backed chair, holding a prayer- 
book with your bonnet on. 

Anna. A prayer-book with my bonnet on? What do I 
put my bonnet on a prayer-book for? 

Rose (slowly sarcastic). You sit with your bonnet on, 
idiot, holding a prayer-book — supposed to be listening for 
the church-bells, I suppose. It's for the cover of the Hap- 
per's Buzzer. 

Anna. All right; is the costume in your locker? 

Rose. Yes. (Hands her the keys.) [EXIT Anna r. r. 

(Rose arranges chair etc., for sitting. As she moves about, 
Million dodges from side to side of the pedestal. Rich 
watches from curtain-top, once he sneezes, and dodges 
down hastily as she looks around.) 

ENTER Anna, r. r. 

Rose. Nan, I'm so glad to see you! I have a queer feel- 
ing, as if I were being watched. 

Anna (getting into chair). Well, you're not. You've 
worked in this old studio till you're one bundle of nerves. 

Rose (arranging her). There! (Steps back to easel) 
Do you feel all right, dear? 

Anna. Perfectly. Do I look all right? 

Rose. You're simply sweet. But don't look so cheerful; 
you're about to start for church, you know. 

Anna. Well, why shouldn't I look cheerful? Ifs not to 
be my funeral service, is it? 

Rose. Oh, — you know what I mean: look as if you were 



A Stew in A Studio. 9 

having high and lofty thoughts, like what you have at the 
sound of the church-bell, you know. 

Anna. I don't have 'em! I just wonder if my hat is on 
straight. 

Kose. Oh, Nan! (laughs) Well, anyhow: — lift your 
eyes — not your whole head — (Anna does as instructed) 
Roll up your eyes, and fix them on the wall over there. 
(Pointing with mahl stick) 

Anna. I'd rather keep them in my head. Oh! (Hastily 
as Rose starts up, shaking her mahl-stick) I'll be good! 
(Attitude) How's that? 

Rose. Fine. (Paints) 

(Silence.) 

Anna. Rose ! 

Rose. What? — Oh, don't look at me, you'll get all out of 
drawing. What is it? 

Anna. I don't want to interrupt you, but there's a spider 
crawling on my ear. 

Rose. No, it's a lock of your hair. 

Anna. Well, it tickles. 

Rose. Don't mind; it will spoil the shading around your 
temples if you brush it back. 

Anna. I'll try not to mind. 

(Rose goes on painting. Silence) 

Anna. Rose ! 

Rose. Well? 

Anna. What makes this prayer-book so heavy? 

Rose. I guess it's the Thirty-Nine Articles; some people 
think them of great weight. 

Anna. Dear me! 

(Rose goes on painting. Long silence.) 

Anna. Rose ! 

Rose. Well? 

Anna. My foot's going to sleep. 

Rose. You won't mind when you get used to it. 

Anna. How soon shall I get used to it? 

(Rose goes on painting. Silence.) 

Anna. Rose ? 

Rose. Well? 

Anna. I don't believe I can spare more than an hour, 
just now. 

Rose. All right, dear. (Goes on painting) 

Anna (impatiently). Well, it's more than an hour now, 
isn't it? 



io A Stew in A Studio. 

Rose. Mercy, no! 

Anna. How long is it? 

Rose {looking at watch). Nineteen minutes. 

Anna. Gracious ! 

{Silence.) 

Anna. Rose ! 

Rose {sharply). Shut your mouth! 

Anna {rising indignantly). Why, Rose Madder, what do 
you mean by speaking to me like that! 

Rose {appealingly) . Dearest, will you sit down and keep 
your mouth closed a minute? I'm at work at the corner of 
your upper lip, and I'm so afraid you will lose the pose. 

Anna. Now I'm up, let me look at it. {Looks over Rose's 
shoulder) Why! {Disgusted, pointing) Do you mean to 
tell me I look like that wall-eyed, wry-necked, red-nosed 

Rose. Why, I haven't got in all the values yet. This is 
the beginning of the composition. 

Anna. It looks like the beginning of a Decomposition. 
{Walks front) Those cheeks are exactly the color of a moldy 
cheese ! 

Rose. Well, just pose a little, tiny bit longer, till I get 
some color into them. {Squeezes a great quantity of red 
paint out on to palette) 

(Anna resumes pose. Rose goes on painting. Million goes 
to sleep behind the pedestal, and begins to snore gently 
at regular intervals.) 

Anna. I hear a sound. 

Rose. It's one of the subway trains. 

ENTER Si Enna. Stares about. Comes c. 

Si. Good-mornin', gals. Is this the Dothewurst Studdy- 
oh? 

Rose {correcting his pronunciation). This is a Stu-dio. 

Si. Stewed what? 

Rose {still speaking very distinctly). This is Dothewurst 
Studio. Did you want any of the students? 

Si. Stewed ants? No, thank you! I don't want any 
stewed ants! I've et my breakfast. 

Anna. May I ask if you are here to see some particular 
person ? 

Si. Wall, no; he ain't so particular as some; when he was 
at our house, last summer, painting a picture in our back 
yard, he used the clean clothes Ma'd just hung out, to wipe 
his brushes on. No, he ain't what you'd call pertic'ler. But 
he had the same name as this here studdy-oh. 



A Stew in A Studio. 11 

Anna and Rose. Professor Dothewurst! (Are you a 
friend of his? {They come down and stand one on each 
side, looking up at him) 

Si. Well, no; I ain't exactly a friend to no feller what 
paints up all my best Sunday collars and cuffs. Ye sh'd 
have seen me goin' to meetin' the next Sabbath! Ma, she 
couldn't get the paint out no way; and I hadn't no others; 
so I jest had to wear 'em. But I sure was riled. There 
was green and yellow streaks on my collar, and one cuff 
was all different shades of red; 'nd the other was the victim 
of his tryin' to get something that looked like a sunset. And 
I had to pass the plate, that Sunday; and every time I 
reached out over a pew, them pesky cuffs was revealed in 
all their glory. Par, he ses on the way home, — " Si, them 
colors was so loud we couldn't hear the singin'." No, I 
ain't no friend to the Professor. But he was spreading paint 
all over a little, teeny scrap of canvas; said it was "to 
order"; and the sum he expected to get for that was more 
than we paid for having the whole barn painted. So I 
thought Pd come to town, this bein' a dull time at home, and 
see if I could get the Professor to give me the price of them 
spoiled cuffs in a few lessons in the noble art of chargm* 
high prices. 

Rose. Well, if the Professor comes in, we'll tell him. 
What name shall I say? 

Si. Enna; Si Enna is my name. {Starting out r., talking 
as he goes) I'll just get my bag stowed away, get a few 
collars that don't look like Fourth o' July, and then I'll be 
back after a while, and [EXIT r. r. 

(Rose and Anna hegin re-arranging pose. Million gives a 
loud snore. They scream.) 

Anna. WHAT was that! 

{Another snore. Rich sneezes, then hastily ducks down.) 

Rose. It was that bust over there. {Starts to see) 

Anna {pulling her back). Oh, Rose, don't! Come away! 

Rich {behind curtain). That's right; don't interfere with 
a man when he's on a bust. 

Rose {running r., drops palette, paint-side up). Ghosts!! 

[EXIT r. r. screaming. 

Anna {looking about fearfully). I wonder if there are 
spirits here. 

Rich {in deep tones). Yea, verily; spirits of turpentine! 

Anna {stepping back). Oh, I am so frightened! {Faints, 



12 A Stew in A Studio. 

falling with side of face on Rose's palette, gets smudges of 
red on face, dress and hands) 

Million {coming out). Poor little girl, she's frightened 
almost to death. {Tries to revive her) 

Rich. It was a shame — {Pushing bach curtains, and 
getting down) But the situation was becoming intolerable. 
{Coming c.) So I spoke. 

Million. I should say you did, you cheerful idiot. {Looks 
about) And here's a palette all set with red paint, and — ye 
gods, what a ghastly picture! I guess that's what made her 
faint. Well, I'll go call a doctor. {Listening) I believe 
Miss Madder is coming back. (Rich hastily goes behind 
curtains) [EXIT Million. 

ENTER Si Enna, r. r. 

Si. Hello, what in the nation! {Sees Anna) What ails 
this girl? {LooJcs at her horrified) Blood! blood all over 
her, and she — dead; one o' them beauteous young stewed- 
ants with whom I was conversin' just previous to the last 
time I went out of here. I'd better be calling for help. 

[EXIT r. r. with a rush. 

Rich. I must make a bolt for it, now. {Stumbles, and 
falls, curtain all about him — shields, etc., sticJcing out in 
every direction; gets head jammed into one of the boxes, his 
hands tangled up in curtain; stumbles about) 

ENTER Policeman, followed by Si. 

Police. What's all this? What's this wooden-headed 
porcupine dancing about? {Rapid pantomime; Rich finally 
caught and held by Si) 

Si. Now, officer, go on, and see what proceeding are 
necessary to proceed with for that lovely damsel now wel- 
tering in her gore. 

Police. She sure is. {Looking at her, feels pulse, etc.) 
But she's not dead. I'll ring up an ambulance. [EXIT r. r. 

ENTER Rose, r. r. 

Rose. Oh, — what does it all mean? 

Rich {struggling violently in Si's arms). Rose, dearest! 

Rose {haughtily, to Si). Sir, you surprise me! 

Si. That language, dear lady, did not proceed from me, 
but from this here assortment of old junk which I am now 
trying to control. {Puts Rich finally on floor, and sits on 
him) 



A Stew in A Studio. 13 

ENTER Policeman, followed by Ambulance Surgeon. 

Police. Here, Doctor, here's the lady. 

(Anna opens eyes. Surgeon raises her to sitting position. 
She looks about, dazed.) 

Surgeon. Any pain, madam? 

Rose. Oh, Anna dear, what is it? 

ENTER Olive, followed by Million. 

Olive. Oh Doctor, do save our poor dear friend ! 

Surgeon. She seems to be covered with blood, and yet I 
can find no cuts or abrasions. 

Rose. Anna, dear, who hurt you? 

Anna. No one ; but that bust over there began to talk 

All. Where? 

Anna (pointing). That one. And — I — don't — (confused; 
hand to head) know what happened next. But — Rose ! what's 
this stuff all over me ? 

Rose (excitedly). "Why, Anna Mation! You've fallen 
into the crimson lake! 

Anna (looking about). Lake? Where? 

Rose. On my palette; I dropped it, and you — but where 
is it ? (Runs about, hunting) 

Anna (sitting up). I didn't get into any lake. 

Surgeon (pointing to Rose). What's the matter with 
her? 

Anna. The chief thing that ails her is, she's lost her wits, 
I think. 

Surgeon. Temporary derangement? I'd better look after 
her. 

Anna. She's feeling bad because she has no palette; you 
can't get on without a pallette, you know. 

Surgeon (with interest). I should say not. How can she 
speak so plainly? I never saw a case like it. (Follows Rose 
about) 

Police. What kind of a crazy mess is this? (Looks off 
r.) I see the street-sergeant; I'll speak to him; 'tis too much 
for me. [EXIT r. r. 

Surgeon (to Rose — puts hand on her shoulder — tries to 
open her mouth). Don't be excited, young lady. Is it true 
that you have no palate? 

Rose (indignantly — trying to push him away). Yes; but 
what are you doing to my mouth ? G'way ! 

Surgeon. I'm trying to make out how you can speak so 
plainly without any palate. 



14 A Stew in A Studio. 

{Lively action; Surgeon and Kose, Si and Eich.) 

Eich. It's time for more than speech 

(Jumps up suddenly, upsetting Si, stumbles and falls on top 
of him, and the two of them upset the Surgeon.) 

ENTEE Policeman, followed by Sergeant. 

Sergeant. Now, now! what's all this? (To Surgeon) I 
guess there's no one here sick enough for you, is there, 
Doctor? 

Surgeon. I'd like to watch one case here, but it's not in 
my line, and I've a lot of cases in senior surge, — so good- 
bye. [EXIT r. r. 

Sergeant. Flynn, you should arrest the one that started 
the mischief. Who was it? 

Anna and Eose (pointing to bust). That. 

Elynn (attitude; front-centre; staring at bust). Well, 
honest to goodness, how would any one arrest that! 

Sergeant. Come, come; let's get on; Magistrate's Court 
No 4 is right next door, and he's there now. Go ahead; 
Elynn, you take the bust, and I'll close the procession with 
this assortment of miscellany. (Seizing Eich, who kicks out 
in all directions; mistakes Eich's foot for a hand, and Eich 
walks on his hands, and other foot) 

QUICK CUETAIN. 



ACT II. 



SCENE. — Magistrate's Court Room. See Scene Plot. 
Magistrate sitting at desk, r. f., back to audience. 
Great noise outside. 

ENTEE Elynn, bust under one arm, carrying pedestal; sets 
it up, c. f., followed by Million, Olive, Anna, Eose, Si, 
and Sergeant dragging Eich. 

Sergeant. Your Honor, this looks like a case of Breach 
of the Peace — I found officer Flynn, of the 19th precinct, 
having some trouble, and we brought them all around here. 
These are the prisoners. 

Magistrate (looks at them astonished). Hold up your 
right hand. To Police) You do solemnly swear that the 
evidence you are about to give shall be the truth, the whole 



A Stew in A Studio. *5 

truth", and nothing but the truth s' keep you go 

with mood all oyer n 5, back ^.^ ft surgeon> 

Doctor started to operate on one of the young j**-*"^ 
hur too much, and the Sergeant comes in and tells me to 
arfest this here graven image, (laying ^^^^Z 

Magistrate (interrupting angrily), bee Here, see °ere, 
what sort of a yarn is this? Officer, will you tell a straight 

St Pohoe. How can I tell a straight story about such a pipe- 
dream a" that there studio was? The £"*?? *& 
come in and seen it, the same as I. Ask him yer Honor. 

Magistrate. Sergeant, what have you to say? 

Sergeant Well, it seems to be a general mix-up. But 
thereTsome trick about this bust that set them all off and 
some fellow tangled up in that curtain seems to have scared 
the voung ladies half out of their wits. 

Magistrate (to Rich). You boxed-up man, what have 

^Eioh! 3 Tour Honor, I only ask to get out of this smother- 
ing thing. 

(Sergeant and Police try io pull him out; c™of Owh! 
from Rich; screams and exclamations from girls.) 

Magistrate. Ton certainly got into a tight box, ^ this 
time! Take him to the carpenter in the next street, get that 
V>nv tflkpn off and bring him back later. 

RkI I feel like accusing some one of attempted man- 
slaughter. 

Magistrate. Whom? 

Eich. Vere de Vere Million. 

Rr° N bh H yo4e there, are you? If you'd not left me 
sweltering in this thing till I was nearly frantic 



1$ A Stew in A Studio. 

Magistrate. Who put you in there? 

Rich. That — er — er — I could hardly tell it was all so 
sudden. 

Million (pointing to Kich). Your Honor, I accuse him. 
He nearly caused the death of a young lady by frightening 
her 

Kose. And he called me a cabbage-head 

Kich. What! 

Magistrate. But what's this bust doing here? 

Anna and Rose. Why, that's what frightened us so. 

Magistrate. How ? 

Anna. It snored. 

Magistrate (sitting bach in disgust, begins putting away 
papers, etc.). I've heard every sort of criminal, but I never 
expected to pass judgment on a snoring bust. It's well for 
you I'm a good-natured man, or I'd send you all to the 
County Asylum; — accent on the first syllable: ass, hey Ser- 
geant? (They laugh) The whole thing is, some sneak thief 
tried to scare you. Any articles missing there lately? 

Olive. My cabbages 

Rose. Your cabbages? 

Million. And my green velvet cloak i 

Olive. Your green velvet cloak? 

(All stare at each other.) 

Magistrate. I should say the real perpetrator of the mis- 
chief had not yet been found. Here we find a well-disposed 
young man, tightly fastened in a box, and nearly helpless in 
the folds of some heavy material, which has the appearance 
of having been violently twisted about him; a young lady 
unconscious for some time, with something on her that looks 
like the work of the Black Hand; various articles missing, 
further damages not yet fully known. Sergeant, what do 
you suggest? 

Sergeant. I think, your Honor, that a watch might be 
kept on the premises to-night. 

Magistrate. Very good. Meanwhile, you can all go home 
on your own recognizances, except that Boxer (pointing 
to Rich), and I'll hold him in a thousand dollar bail for 
further hearing to-morrow at ten o'clock. You will all have 
to return as witnesses. Give me your names. (Beginning to 
write) 

CURTAIN. 



A Stew in A Studio. 17 



ACT III. 

SCENE. — Studio. Furniture as in Act I. Plaster-casts 
against wall, table set, rear, for refreshments. Lights 
low. 

ENTER Flynn r. r. 

Flynn (looking about fearfully, steps cautiously). 'Tis 
entirely too much loike a cimit'ry to be pleasant. Howiver, 
" ye must watch," sez the sergeant, and that's what I'll do. 
(Walks about; knocks on wall with club) Nothin' doin'; 
I'll just rest a bit. If this wuz a cimit'ry, the ghosts wud 
soon begin to walk. 

(Comes around in front of easel. Sits down on bench and 
settles for a nap.) 

ENTER Million in sheet and pillow-case. Goes l. f., sits in 
high-backed chair. Pushes up drapery a little, showing 
face to audience. Wipes face with a corner of the sheet. 

Million. Well, my dear little Olive will soon be here, 
and then I'll settle the matter. I heard her say she would 
come to the studio early, so as to see the maid they've hired 
to cater for us. She'll certainly come in here, and then I'm 
going to find out why she doesn't like me. (Yawns) So 
much excitement tires a man out; I'm — going — to — wait — 
(Yawns) till — she — (Sleeps) 

ENTER Rich; comes c. 

Rich. Now I'm going to find out, before the rest of these 
tiresome people come, why on earth Rose didn't like my 
flowers, this morning; and what she meant by saying that I 
called her a cabbage-head. My Rose, — oh, to see her just a 
moment, and settle this cruel misunderstanding. She has no 
idea how I love her. (Tragic attitude) It is no use being 
so timorous and shy. Next time I see her alone, I am going 
to boldly assert my feelings in a perfectly frank and ingenu- 
ous manner — (Million moves slightly) What do I see. 
There, there, in that old chair, my darling sleeps. (Bending 
over her, hand on heart) There is no mistaking the droop 
of that lovely head. (Attitude) Dare I? I will — Faint 
heart ne'er won fair lady. (Puts arm gently about Million, 
who stirs a little, sits up) 



18 A Stew in A Studio. 

Million. What soft arms now encircle me? Can it be 
that my little Olive has relented, and cannot but show her 
love? Now, now, when I had almost feared to speak? 
{Turns to Kich, throws arms about him) 

Kich and Million {together). You dear girl. 

(Both jump up.) 

Eich. Who the deuce are you? 

Million. What are you doing here? {They wrestle) 

Both. Help — murder — thieves — fire 

Flynn {wakes, looks around easel). Powers above. 
{Trembles) Orders is orders, but did I iver think I'd arrest 
ghosts ? 

ENTER Kitty with plate of chicken-salad. 

Kitty. Oh, wirra, wirra. {Sees Flynn, who beckons her 
behind easel) Oh, Mister Flynn, I came up to have some of 
the gents try this salad all right, — but wud the loikes uv thim 
ate the loikes uv this? 

Flynn. Aisy now — {They sit on bench, peering around 
easel) 

Rich. See here, is it you, Million? 

Million. Yes, — is that you, Rich? 

Rich. Yes. Let's stop this scrapping, and talk things up 
a bit. {They push back face-coverings and come c. f.) 

Kitty {clinging to Flynn). Och, they're afther us! 

Flynn. Niver fear, darlin', I'm here. {Arm about her; 
they listen) 

Rich. Million, let's see if we can't help one another. 
Here's Miss Rose Madder; — and a madder Rose never was. 
She maintains that I called her a cabbage-head. 

Million. And Olive thinks I'm cruel, because I'm trying 
to make her give up that old still-life and do designing. So 
there you are. 

Rich. Let's exchange girls this evening and each try to 
smooth out things for the other. See? You take Rose and 
tell her what a nice fellow I am, and 

Million. I see; and I'll do the same for you, talking to 
Olive. But now, how are we to know which is which? 

Kitty {emerging suddenly). Good-avenin', gintlemin. 
Yez got on me nerves at firrst, but I see ye'r jist two nice 
byes wid troubles av yer own. Kin I hilp yez? I'm Kitty 
Duffy, the maid they had in to help for the studio-dance 
this avenin'. 

Rich. Yes, Kitty, you see we're expecting two young 



A Stew in A Studio. 19 

ladies, rigged in these same togs (holding up sheet) for a 
disguise. We have to choose partners for the dance, not 
knowing which lady is which, till we all throw aside our 
sheets, and come out in fancy dress. 

Kitty. Sure, that's aisy enough. I do be goin' down 
now, to hilp thim dress, and I'll notice, by some way uv me 
own, and let yez know. 

Million. All right; thank you, Kitty. 

[EXIT Kitty r. r. 

(Million and Rich go l. r., stand together, whispering) 

Flynn (aside). Well now, things is gettin' more human- 
like; a love-affair — two av thim — includin' me own, three 
av thim: for if 'twas Kitty Duffy made this salad (tasting) 
begorry, I'm hers for life. (Takes more salad) There's 
toimes whin night duty ain't so bad. 

ENTER Kitty, running. 

Kitty (to Rich and Million). The young lady comm' first 
is the wan yez call " Rose," and jist afther her will be the 
wan called " Olive." 

Rich. Good for you, Kitty! » 

(Kitty goes behind easel; tries to get plate from Flynn/ 
boxes his ears; they sit side by side, eat the salad, and 
9.) 



ENTER Olive, in sheet and pillow-case. Comes front, 
pushes back drapery from face, brushes back hair, etc. 

Olive. I wonder where Kitty is; the guests will all be 
here before I have a chance to see if the refreshments are 
right. (Looks about, hastily covering face again as she 
spies the men) 

Rich (aside). There's my Rose; now, Million, see what 
you can do for me. 

Million (goes forward, bows). Miss Rose Madder? 

Olive (aside). What fun! He thinks I'm Rose. I don't 
see what made her act so queerly about coming in; she was 
'way ahead of me, and then turned back and began to cry. 
Well, I'll keep this up and see what it comes to. 

Million (who has been uneasily fidgetting about, starting 
to rear, and then returning). Miss Madder. (Olive stands 
motionless) Don't try to fool me; I know you are Miss 
Madder. 



20 A Stew in A Studio. 

{Other guests begin coming in, rear; one at a time; silently 
wave ghostly arms, and group themselves in rear. 
Among them Si and Anna.) 

Million. This is a festive occasion, meant to be such, 
but sadness may lurk in the most festive scene. Just now, 
my friend Rich is the most unhappy man I know; except 
myself. 

Olive. Except yourself? Why are you unhappy? 

Million. Oh, Miss Kose, why dwell on that? Suffice it 
to say, that both my friend and myself have incurred the 
displeasure of two of the loveliest of girls. I cannot see 
why you should frown on poor Orville Rich 

Olive. I haven't. {Laughs) 

Million. But he feels that you are somehow displeased. 

Olive. And what have you done to Miss Olive Green? 

Million. My dear lady, if I only knew 

Olive. And what have you done to Miss Olive Green? 

Million. I would like an answer to that, myself. I sus- 
pect it is because I object to her wasting her time on that 
wretched still-life 

Olive (stiffly). I think it is very good still-life. 

Million. It is good, because everything she does is good. 
(Olive makes a motion of delight, then checks herself) But 
she is such a little genius about designing. 

Olive (with interest). Is that so? 

Million. Indeed she has a rare gift for it. Professor 
Dothewurst says 

Olive. Never mind what he says ; do you really think 

Million (surprised). Really, I had no idea you valued my 
opinion so much. 

Olive. I didn't, before. But this changes things. 

Million (rather blankly). Oh, well, I know that Miss 
Olive is the most original and artistic 

Olive. It's my opinion that had you talked to her that 
way 

Million. I was going to, and I was getting to it if she'd 
given me a chance. (Slowly) I — suppose — I — didn't begin 
right. But it was maddening to see her piling up that 
market-garden stuff, and when I tried to tell her it was 
beneath her art 

Olive (forgetting herself). You didn't say anything like 
that ; you said, " I hate to see you do such poor things." 

Million. Well, isn't that the same thing? 

Olive (contemptuously). No, 



A Stew in A Studio. 21 

Million. What do you know about it, anyway? has Olive 
been talking to you ? 

Olive. I — er — er — overheard some of the conversation. 

Million. Whatever I said, that was what I meant; but 
she sailed out past me with her nose in the air — did you ever 
realize what a beautiful little nose she has? 

Olive. Why no; I never thought she had a pretty nose. 

Million. I'm surprised at you: — why, it's beautiful. 

Olive. Glad you like it. Well, when she and her beauti- 
ful nose had gone, what then? 

Million. Then, there was the most extraordinary stew — 
the worst kind of a stew, and oh! 

Olive. What? 

Million. I'd forgotten, in all the commotion, — but my 
cloak's gone — my green velvet cloak. 

Olive (excitedly and jerkily — leaning toward him, and 
waving her draped arms). Your green velvet cloak? Your 
green velvet cloak? Your green velvet cloak? 

Million. Yes, yes; I have on a Walter Raleigh suit un- 
der this rig, and I was to wear a cloak ; and then I'd planned 
such a nice little effect when we unmasked ; — I was going to 
spread the cloak before Miss Green, with a low bow, to show 
her that she was queen of my heart. Now, (sadly) it's all 
spoiled. 

Olive. Perhaps not. Suppose, now, she were to spread 
the cloak before you? 

Million (excitedly). I'd know she loved me, then; but 
that's past hoping for. But oh, Miss Madder, here I am 
talking about my own affairs, and not saying a word about 
poor Orville Rich. Try to be kind to him, won't you ? Don't 
turn away from the one who loves you. 

Olive (softly, laughing). I won't. But oh, I forgot; the 
guests are all coming, and I am not receiving them. (They 
go rear, business of waving draped arms, laughing, pairing 
off for dance, etc. Rose and Rich come front, talking earn- 
estly) 

Rich. My dear Miss Green, I hope I have succeeded in 
proving to you that a better fellow than Vere de Vere Mil- 
lion never lived. I should not like to see him so unhappy as 
I am at this moment 

(Confusion in rear of room; some cries, laughter.) 

First Guest. 'Tis not so; ask Rich. 

All. Rich, Rich, where are you? which are you? 



22 A Stew in A Studio. 

Eich (to Rose). Excuse me. (To others) What is it? 
(Goes rear to guests; more low talking; laughter) 

Rose (pushing back draperies from face, arranging hair, 
etc.). I'm glad to get this hot thing off my face for a 
minute, and breathe. But what fun this is. He seems to 
think I'm Olive; well, let him think so; perhaps I shall find 
out now why he treated me so. (Pushes back draperies as 
Rich returns, laughing) 

Rich. They wanted to know if it was true that the 
dummy and the Antique head had a fight here this morn- 
ing. Well, I was saying that Million was very unhappy 
about you. May I confide my own trouble, now? 

Rose. Yes. 

Rich. This morning, I felt that I must let Miss Madder 
know how much I — ah — well, I'd rather not say that right 
out before I say it to her. But, — you know 

Rose. I know. (Aside) Dear old thing. 

Rich. So, to sort of prepare her, you know, I brought in 
a bunch of American Beauty roses — see? Her name's Rose, 
and she's like a rose, and so I tried to say, in a note which 
I left. (Rose starts violently) After that, I — er 

Rose (slyly). I suppose you went out, then. 

Rich. I — er — er — that isn't what I did. 

Rose. Do you think she received the roses? 

Rich. She certainly received the note; I — er — heard so; 
but she goes about, saying that I called her a "cabbage 
head." What am I to think? 

Rose (eagerly). Think that she made a mistake, that 
probably she's awfully sorry, and anxious to make up with 
you, somehow. 

Rich. That's too much like heaven to be true. 

Si (running about, waving arms). Well, well, where's the 
music? aren't the ghosts going to dance? 
(Quadrille music — any square dance, — begin for two sets 
— general outcry.) 

All. We're a couple short; two people didn't come. 

Flynn and Kitty (coming out). If it will help, we'll fill 
out a set. 

All. Good. Come on, etc. 

(Dance. At end of dance, Kitty runs about, collecting 
sheets and pillow-cases which the guests hastily take 
off, emerging in fancy costumes. All curtsey or bow to 
their partners, laughing, pair off in couples, scatter about 



A Stew in A Studio. 23 

rear of stage. Kitty runs off with sheets and returns, 
begins to serve refreshments, assisted by the men.) 

Rose (coming f. hurriedly with Olive). Olive, those 
roses you found this morning belong to me — they were left 
there for me — and I want them, quick. 

Olive. Oh, I beg your pardon, — and I want something 
to carry out my own costume, too; come on. 

[EXIT Rose and Olive. 

Rich (coming p. with Million). "Well, old chap, I'm 
afraid it's no use. Our fair damosels won't even stay in 
the same room with us. 

Million. I know. If we can't be happy, we can perhaps 
be good; so let's go back and do the civil thing to the com- 
pany. 

Rich. It's hard, old man. (They turn; Rich goes rear, 

ENTER Olive, comes f. with green velvet cloak, spreads it 
before Million with low curtsey, looks up at him, laugh- 
ing. Tableau. 

(Kitty and Flynn go around behind easel, peer around at 
them.) 

Flynn. Kitty, there's a model for ye. 

(Kitty chases him out r. ; They return slyly with more salad, 
sit on bench and eat it, all but the lettuce-leaves,) 

Million. Olive, my dear girl, what does this mean? 
Olive. It means, sir, that I can hear amazingly well 
through a sheet. 

(They put the cloak on, around them both, and go L, P., 

behind pedestal.) 
ENTER Rose, roses on her arm. Goes f., looks around piti- 
fully. Rich hurries to her. 

Rose. Mr. Rich, I have not yet thanked you for these 
beautiful roses. Is it too late to say how I appreciate them, 
and that I am sorry I have only one rose to offer you in re- 
turn? 

Rich. One Rose. — Miss Madder, — Rose — do you really 
mean it? (She takes a rose, lays it across her heart and 
gives it to him. He holds it and her hand, looking at her. 
Tableau. Behind the easel. Kitty and Flynn burlesque 
them with lettuce) 

Si. Come, come, let's have another dance. Where are 
you all? 



24 A Stew in A Studio. 

Anna. Where are they all? (Buns behind easel) Oh — 
beg pardon, I'm sure. 

Si (at the same moment dodging around pedestal). My, 
my, what a loving world this is, to be sure. 

(Kose and Eich, Olive and Million, Si and Anna, Kitty 
and Flynn, all form half -circle. Guests in a line be- 
hind them.) 
Kose. Such a happy ending to a most trying day. 
Si. It was a reg'lar stew. 
Olive. A cabbage-stew, hey, Rose? 
Flynn. I think mesilf, 'twas an Irish stew. 
Music : Old Tune — " My Father and Mother were Irish." 
Chorus : " We won't go Home until Morning "— 

Oh, this is the Dothewurst Sketch Club, 
Oh, this is the Dothewurst Sketch Club, 
Oh, this is the Dothewurst Sketch Club; 
And what was all the stew? 

"A man got into a tight-box." 
And that was all the stew. 

Si. " There was a girl in a temper, " etc." 

Chorus: And that Was all the stew. 

Anna. " There was a snoring old image, etc." 
Chorus: And that was all the stew. 

All. " There was a misunderstanding, etc." 
And that was all the stew. 

(Orchestra continues playing this melody in waltz time. 
All pair off, and waltz around the stage, red lights ) 



CURTAIN. 



PHYLLIS'S INHERITANCE 

A Comedy in Three Ads, by Frank H. Bernard 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

CHARACTERS 
Philip Morningside, a promising New York Attorney. 
Major Philander Mumfo'rd, a Veteran of '61. 
Pierre Marquette, of Paris and New York. 

Patrick Mooney, M. P., Secretary of the Home Rule Association* 
Peter Martin, a timid young man with a desire to be "sporty." 
Paul Marvel, a private detective. 

Phyllis Morningside, Philip's up-to-date wife with ambitions. 
Phoebe Martingale, has been a widow on four occasions. 
Penelope Mumford. a veritable "butter-in" at all times. 
Patrice Mumford, her only child. She has just "come out." 
Angela ) 

Alice >• Trio of Vassar "bright lights." 
Amy ) 

Pansy, a housemaid of tie "fresh" variety. 
Patience, who also assumes "domestic" affairs. 

Two Scenes, One Interior and One Exterior. 
Time of Representation — -Two hours. 
Phyllis, wife of Philip, is to inherit the fortune of a deceased East 
Indian uncle, provided she marries his adopted son, who presumably is about 
to visit her. Being already married and most desirous of obtaining the 
fortune, she conceals the matter from her husband. Two men call upon 
her bearing introductory letters which she does not read, supposing each in 
turn to be the adopted son. The subterfuges she invents to account for 
their presence lead to many perplexing mistakes, which are finally satis- 
factorily arranged when it transpires that her husband is identified as the 
adopted son. 



THE RED ROSETTE, 

A WESTERN DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, BY GORDON V. MAY 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

A typical drama of the Far West. The Major in command of a military 
fort advertises in New York papers for a wife, and elicits a response from 
a rich middle-aged lady. As a means of identification, each is to wear a red 
rosette. The lady arrives accompanied by her niece. The rosettes get 
into other hands, resulting in complications both ludicrous and serious. The 
niece is abducted and rescued by a young offioer, a previous West Point 
acquaintance. The results are obvious. This play offers fine opportunities 
for character parts, and is replete with startling situations. 

CHARACTERS 

Major Philander Braggs, who owns one rosette. ..,, 5 ,„,»,»• • Character 
Miss Ophelia Skidder, who owns the opposite rosette ...,,,..,... Old Lady 

Lieut. Philip Manley, who gets the Major's rosette. , . , ,...».. Lead 

Clare Brooks, who gets the other rosette .,..,..,.,,,,,,,,.,. Lead 

Robert Ruthvan, who gets into trouble. ,.,.,...,,,.,.,, f Heavy 

Dandy Davis, who gets his deserts ..,,.,., ,y ,,,.. t ,,. , Heavy 

Tom Scott, Sheriff, who gets his man,.,,, ,,.,,,,,., Straight 

Pop Bowxey, who gets some boarders.,.,.., ,....,,,,.,... Straight 

Kitty" IteWijgY, who gets Tom Scott. .,...,,.*.., Ingenue 

TS#£g ScStfgs, TVo IstTttloa AOT) On£ fixaSStos. 
Time of RfipRKSBNTATiotf^fwd heram 



The Triple Wedding 

A Drama in Three Acts 

Bi| Charles Barnard 



PRICE 15 CENTS 

Four male, four female characters. A self-made man, two lawyers, a 
would-be author, three young ladies and a maidservant. Time of play- 
ing, i hour. 3 interior scenes. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

Act I. — Poverty. Buttonholes, four cents a dozen. A diffident lover. 
The uncle's will. Greenfield discovers his parentage. His sacrifice. 

Act II. — The search for the heir. The young lover's expectations. The 
man with no name. A new tombstone. Clara accepts the inheritance. 

Act III. — The missing heir is found. He discovers his father. Green- 
field and Clara. The triple wedding. 



ERIN 00 BRAQH 

IRISH DRAMA IN THREE ACTS 

By BERNARD F. MOORE 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

Five male, four female characters. Eccentric old man, character heavy, 
leading juvenile, walking gentleman, character comedy. Leading juvenile 
lady, walking lady, heavy character, soubrette. The action is dramatic 
throughout, with a startling climax. Time of playing, z hours, i interior, 
2 exterior scenes. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

Act I. — The convict's escape O'Brien's betrayal. The truce. 
Act II. — "Erin go bragh!" Trapped. The forced promise. 
Act III. — The rebel's pardon. The promise redeemed. Death of Branni* 
gan. Revelation. 



Plays for Female Characters 

CHEERFUL COMPANION, A IS cents. A duologue for two female 
characters, adapted from a Character Sketch by Ina Leon Cassilis. Parlor scene. 
Time, 25 minutes. A lady of refinement advertised for a cheerful, musical companion, 
a good reader. She has one applicant, who proves to be tearfully doleful, garrulous 
over disappointed love failures, and an unmitigated bore. A fine scope for character 
delineation. 

CRANFORD DAMES. 15 cents. A play for 8 or 14 female charac- 
ters, by Alice Byington. a interior scenes. Costumes of sixty years ago. Time 
of playing, x% hours. A clever adaptation of Mrs. GaskelTs " Cranford," which 
is perhaps one of the finest pieces of humoristic writing within the entire range of 
English fiction. The delicate pathos, the subtle humor, the quaint atmosphere of the 
book have been well preserved in the play, and the result is a series of episodes almost 
wholly devoid of that element called plot, but possessed, none the less, of a charm that 
cannot fail to please the audience. The piece is easily managed, and will prove a 
strong attraction for young ladies' representations. 

GERTRUDE MASON, M.D.; or, The Lady Doctor. 15 cents. 

A farce in i act for 7 female characters, by L. M. C. Armstrong. Plain room scene 
or no scene at all. Runs 30 minutes. An exceedingly bright piece for young ladies, 
in which young Dr. Gertrude, already a victim of circumstances, is made the victim 
of a practical joke. The scenes with Mrs. Van Style, who mistakes the doctor for a 
pawnbroker, and Miss Jane Simpkins, who brings a sick dog to be cured, are hilari- 
ous, while Nora, an Irish cook, is deliciously droll. The cook is the star of the 
piece, but all the personages are vivacious and every situation bristles with fun. 

LOVE AND A "WAY. 1 5 cents. A comedy in 3 acts and 1 scene, by 
Evelyn Simms. 4 female characters. Scene, a sitting-room. Time, x~% hours. 
Phyllis, a young girl, loving and beloved by Jack Pemberton, a rich young man, 
refuses to marry him because her maiden aunts consent and every one wishes it. 
Jack is reported to have lost his fortune, and now she wants to marryjack, with whom 
her aunts forbid any communication. By the aid of her friend Beatrice an elopement 
is planned and carried out, and a most surprising climax is sprung upon the audience. 

MAIDENS ALL FORLORN. 1 5 cents. A comedy in 3 acts and 
1 scene, by Evelyn Simms. 6 female characters; Scene, a parlor in a seaside cottage. 
Time, \% hours. Three young girls chafing under the monotony of a man-forsaken 
resort, write Teddy to come and visit them. Teddy cannot come, but answers that 
his friend Dr. Jocelyn Denby will, come and help while away the time. Great 
preparations are made for his reception, including much interest by a Maiden A unt. 
Each prepares a present to bestow on the Doctor, and feigns an ailment to interest 
him. The Doctor arrives — a woman. The climax, deftly worked out, is sprung on 
the audience at the last moment, and insures the play a complete success. The char- 
acters are all good, the Maiden Aunt and Mrs. Moloney are great character parts. 

MURDER WILL OUT. 15 .cents. A farce in 1 act, for 6 female 
characters, by L. M. Elwyn. Time, 30 minutes. A breezy and effective farce, in 
which half a dozen bright girls can delight an audience with half an hour of innocent fun. 
Grandmother Stiles and her demure but frolicsome granddaughter are excellent charac- 
ters ; Dinah, the colored cook, is amusing, and Bridget O' Flaherty is a funny Irish 
girl — her quarrel with Dinah being exceedingly laughable. The attempts of Lena 
and her merry friends, May and Minnie, to hoodwink the old lady, and their final 
exposure, will keep the audience in a ripple of laughter. No scenery required. 

SOCIAL ASPIRATIONS. 1 5 cents. A comedy in 1 act and 2 scenes, 
by Helen Sherman Griffith. 5 female characters. Bedroom scene afterwards 
transformed into a parlor. Plays about 45 minutes. A highly entertaining comedy in 
which Mrs. Chick and her two daughters from the United States are in Paris, bent on 
an extended tour, but meet with a Countess, who proposes to introduce them into 
fashionable society. They feel flattered and make a great fuss over the Countess^ 
who turns out to be a lady s maid dressed in her mistress' finery, and is betrayed by 
the housemaid of the pension. Disillusionment and exciting climax. 

MY AUNT'S HEIRESS. 15 cents. A comedy in 1 act. n female 
characters. _ Parlor scene. Modern costumes. Time, 1 hour. Has a "Cinderella" 
sort of plot in which a rich widow adopts a ruse to decide which of her seven nieces 
shall inherit her fortune. It shows that envy and jealousy don't pay, and that striv- 
ing to make others happy is the best way to gain happiness for ourselves. Two of 
the characters can be played by one girl. No scenery required. 



THE EAST SIDERS 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts, by ANTHONY E. WILLS 

PRICE, 25 CENTS 

CHARACTERS 

Emil Schultz, an old tailor Old German 

Paul Albers, in his employ Character Heavy 

James Keegan, a typical New Yorker Comedy 

Robert Perry., an actor Lead 

Daniel Jarvis, a prosperous merchant Character old man 

Clarence Frothingham, a dry-goods clerk Dude 

Officer McNally, a policeman Comedy 

Otto Werner, a street musician German comedy 

Mrs. Schultz, the tailor's wife Old lady comedy 

Edna Schultz, her daughter Lead 

Lieutenant Brockway, a Salvation lassie Straight 

Dolly Hammond, who lives upstairs Soubrette 

One Interior Stage-setting. — Time, 2 Hours. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS 

Act I. — New Year's Eve. Paul Albers arrives, expecting to marry 
Edna. Mr. Jarvis hears some plain truths. The mistake of Clarence. The 
mortgage. The. marriage of Edna and Ferry announced. Edna driven from 
home. 

Act II. — July, eighteen months later. Jarvis opens the big store. 
McNally receives a scare. Paul's gambling. Good advice thrown away. 
The overdue mortgage. Paul's theft. Edna accused. 

Act III. — October, three months later. The distress of Schultz. 
Sheriff in charge. Edna's operatic success. An obdurate father. Arrest 
of Paul. Some lively bidding. Dolly's purchase. Schultz relents. Every- 
body happy. 



ROCKY FORD 

A Western Drama in Four Acts 

By BURTON L. SPILLER 



PRICE, 25 CENTS 



Eight male (2 may double), three female characters. One exterior, two 
interior scenes. Time, 2 hours. The action revolves around the theft of a 
will by a gentlemanly villain, whereby Jack, a young ranchman (lead), 
nearly loses not only a fortune, but also his affianced bride. Jack's two 
cowboy friends come to his rescue, however, and through their timely 
interference the plan to defraud him is foiled. A Kentucky major and a 
middle-aged spinster have excellent comedy parts, 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 400 195 9 • 



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